


Indecision

by July



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3466154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/July/pseuds/July
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marian Hawke is young, wild and free. Tied down to nobody, her casual affairs are beginning to cause a rift between her and her friends. She doesn't want the drama, but it seems it's going to happen no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indecision

**Author's Note:**

> Props if you can tell me what city this takes place in. No cheating!

“I have to say, Hawke, I thought you had something else in mind when you asked me to have lunch with you.” Anders smiled as he bit into the last of his sushi. Hawke just stared bitterly at his fingers expertly handling the wooden chopsticks as she ate with her fingers.

“What? Me?” she asked, a hint of mockery in her voice. He really should have been used to this by now. “Since when have I ever had an ulterior motive with you?”

The smile immediately dropped from his face as he put the chopsticks down on the plate. “All right, what do you want? God, why do I always think we can just be normal friends?”

“Hey, we are friends!” she protested just as she stuffed her mouth with her last California roll. She chewed without breaking eye contact, letting a long pause linger over them before she swallowed. “I need prescription pot, can I count on you?”

Anders hesitated for a few seconds, letting her request sink in. The he laughed all too loudly, a sharp cry that tapered into a long string of chuckles before he realized she wasn’t joking. “Seriously, Hawke? Are you crazy? You want me to prescribe you medical marijuana because, why, your dealer got arrested?”

Her silent glare confirmed the truth. He just laughed again. “Shit, and this was your best idea to score more? Hawke, I admire your creativity as usual, but you know for a fact I can’t just do that.”

“Not so much creativity, just resourcefulness. Though it would be easier this way than finding some rando dealer on the streets who might knife me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Marian,” he muttered and she narrowed her eyes, annoyed by the use of her first name, suddenly feeling like she was being scolded. “I’m sure you have connections. Coming to me asking for prescriptions is pretty desperate, and honestly, pretty low. You’re better than this.”

She sighed, slouching in her seat. “Thanks, _dad_ , save me the lecture.”

They sat at a tiny patio table on the sidewalk outside her favourite sushi restaurant. The spring sun glared overhead, a welcome sight from the long winter they had just gotten though. Hawke had taken off her jacket, letting it drape over the back of her chair, exposing her shoulders in her baggy tank top. Beyond the ornate iron gate sectioning off the patio, a moderate crowd of people passed by in either direction, always in a hurry.

Anders had reached into his pocket, leaning his head over as he checked the time on his phone. “I need to get back,” he said. “It’s my turn to get lunch, although considering how stupid the reason was you brought me here…”

“You still had fun, though.” Hawke smirked. “And maybe I’ll see you later tonight?”

A puzzled look washed over his face. “Wait, is that also the reason you brought me here?”

Hawke shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, you tell me, you can see about half of my bra through this shirt.”

“Hawke,” he groaned. “I need to work, anyway. Maybe another time.” Anders began to peel bills out of his wallet, leaving them for the waiter.

“You always have to work.”

“I am a doctor who works in a hospital, I work long hours! It’s a thing people know about.”

Hawke held up her hands defensively as he stood up, but she lingered in her seat, watching him. He was still dressed in the pale blue dress shirt, dark tie and chinos that he wore underneath the lab coat. His blond hair was tied back in a half ponytail as it always was. In all the years she had known him, he had never been with anyone too seriously. She suspected it was his work. He just needed someone who really didn’t want to be around their significant other for too long, and in the city, as big as it was, he would meet that person. It just wouldn’t be her, not any time soon.

“Fine, guess I’ll find Fenris.”

The look he gave her was grim, but he caught himself, letting his face relax. “And that doesn’t bother me, you know that.”

With a knowing smirk, she stood up from the table, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she walked past him. They parted ways on that sidewalk, Hawke moving to fight against the flow of traffic. She slipped her leather jacket back on, taking her phone out of her pocket. Popping in her earbuds, she weaved in and out of people, wondering what her next move would be. Once turning onto a quieter street, she began to scroll through her contacts. She clucked her tongue when she made it through the long list, not seeing a single name that could possibly help her out. Thinking back to Anders’ words, it truly was desperate to think he could hook her up, but in reality she was growing desperate.

Her street was shaded nicely by the maple trees just starting to grow their leaves. Walking up the steps to the old Victorian row house right in the heart of Kensington Market, she withdrew her key from her bra, but found the door was already open. Shutting the door behind her, she heard a greeting from the living room.

“That took a while,” Isabela called from the couch.

“I met with Anders,” she replied, kicking off her shoes. Past the narrow hallway, she entered the open space, seeing Isabela at her laptop. The woman was clad in cutoff jean shorts and, curiously, a rather polished and conservative looking shirt. Hawke plopped down in the armchair across from her, giving her a raised eyebrow.

Isabela met her gaze and laughed. “Oh, I had a Skype meeting for work. That explains the grandma shirt.” Closing her laptop, she began to unbutton the blouse, revealing a white camisole underneath. “So! Did you hook us up?”

Hawke took a deep breath, not answering, and Isabela tipped her head back with a sigh. “Well, that fucks us over for tonight.”

“No it doesn’t!” she retorted. “We can go to that club in Y and E, the one that just opened?”

Isabela scoffed, crossing her legs on the couch. “First of all, if we are even going to attempt to look like the yuppies who fester in Y and E, you probably shouldn’t have half your bra hanging out of your shirt.”

Hawke looked down at her chest, noticing the gaping armhole of her tank had shifted around, revealing more than the shirt intended to. She fixed it half-heartedly. It was just Isabela, and her roommate had seen more than that. “Well, I am affluent to get us in there. Could get us right to the front of the line, or on the guest list even.”

“But without the fame,” Isabela pointed out, tapping her index finger on her lips. She paused, beginning to ponder the situation. Usually once Hawke suggested something, no matter how ridiculous, she would start to think how to follow through with it. As soon as she pointed out all the obstacles, of course. “Yes, you’re a millionaire, a professional heiress, but you also live in this incredibly average-income home, and you’re as much a celebrity as any of us.”

“I’m a professional _mage_ , Isabela!” Hawke’s jaw dropped, pretending to be offended. “Besides, that money is spent keeping my mother happy in Rosedale and the twins in school.”

“And clearly not on pot.” Isabela opened up her laptop again, beginning to type. Hawke knew she was searching up the very nightclub she mentioned. “It really is a shame, because if you bothered wanting to be famous, you could get us anywhere. And don’t give me that professional mage bullshit, you just take calls and say you’re booked solid.”

“It makes them want me more.” Hawke relaxed back in her chair. Her freelance business had been going well in the past few months. Inheriting her family fortune meant she never had to work a day in her life, but she found the life boring. People always needed mages. After throwing up a half-assed website for her services, the emails began to trickle in slowly, and eventually it spread to the point where she had to reject people wanting appointments. She wanted work, but she didn’t want that much work. Despite sitting on millions her mother entrusted to her, she preferred to live in a more modest home. The life Isabela spoke of was what she and her family had been avoiding their entire lives. The Amell family had made their fortune in the generation before her mother, but rarely had they been in the public eye. Still, if the name Marian Hawke were to bounce around out in the open, it could at least open some doors for her.

“Well, the name Amell does carry weight. I mean, if you suddenly decided to become a local celebrity, I’m sure nobody would object.” Isabela was looking at her expectantly.

Hawke bit her lip as she stared blankly at the floor in thought. Reaching down her shirt, she pulled her phone out of her bra. “I’m getting the others.”

—

“Well, that was worth it.”

Isabela left the other way, arm in arm with Merrill walking towards the subway station. Hawke was standing right at the curb of the sidewalk, watching each taxi passing by, ignoring her frantically waving hand. Fenris was standing next to her, unmoving, the others long gone down the street. She could feel his glare without even looking at him, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Finally one of the yellow cabs slowed down to a stop in front of them and they got into the back seat.

“Sullivan Street,” Hawke simply said to the driver as she clasped her seatbelt on. She fumbled around with her clutch purse, taking out her compact mirror and inspecting the dull throbbing pain around her eye. “Shit,” she muttered, seeing the area swollen. “That’s going to show tomorrow.”

“You should not have done that.”

For the first time since leaving the club, Hawke looked at Fenris, shooting him a glare. “Well, fuck you, okay? I didn’t start it.”

“You certainly finished it.”

She rolled her eyes, snapping the compact closed and sticking it back in her bag. “I knew her, okay, that girl? Patrice? Horrible name, more horrible person. She was an RA when I was in university, and she just loved to fuck around with me.”

Fenris was listening, but he didn’t believe a word that was coming out of her mouth. “You head-butted that woman, whoever she was.”

“What _ever,_ ” Hawke groaned. “You know, I had this discussion with Isabela today, I’m thinking of finally becoming the celebrity I’m supposed to be.”

Fenris looked at her puzzled, but still amusedly curious.

“I mean, really! My parents didn’t want us growing up in the public eye being famous for being rich. Only people who pay attention to our family know who Marian, Bethany and Carver Hawke are. But everyone knows the Amells.” Her hands were moving quickly now, gesturing with every sentence. Fenris was looking out the window. “So like, if I become famous, I won’t get thrown out of clubs. That’s a bonus.”

Fenris rolled his head back to look at her, a smile playing on his lips. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. But I thought you hated the idea of being famous, especially for just being wealthy.”

Shrugging one shoulder, she continued. “I mean, sure, but I’ve never actually lived that before. I don’t know what that’s like, though.”

“I imagine if you did this again, it wouldn’t be such great attention.”

With a sigh, Hawke began to fiddle with her painted nails, noticing a smudge from when she had painted them impatiently that afternoon. “But it could be so much fun. And it’s not like I’d make new friends, you guys could be like my entourage and be celebrities by association. Oh, it’d be like that show! _Entourage_. I just started watching that, you know, it’s really good, I don’t know why it took me so long to start watching it, and-“

She was cut off when Fenris pulled her face in and kissed her hard on the lips. His fingers trailed down over her jaw to her neck. Her mouth opened, letting his tongue in, her hands at the back of his head, pulling him in closer. His hands were around her body, trailing circles on her back. When they pulled apart, her teeth held onto his bottom lip, letting go only to smile. She inhaled deeply, their breath heavy. Catching his green eyes, her heart thumped, and when he gave her a smirk, a wave of warmth spread throughout her body. She placed a hand flat over his chest before kissing him again, not letting go until the cab came to a full stop in front of her house. Paying the driver, they left the car, Hawke wobbling awkwardly in her heels she was convinced she could walk in, to the front door. Before grabbing the key, she turned around to face Fenris, back flat against the door.

“Before I let you inside,” she began, “I have to know if you’re actually going to stay this night?”

He seemed to grow uncomfortable, and she inwardly flinched. “I’m kidding,” she recovered. Their first encounter was not a comfortable memory for either of them. Not enough communication, usually the cause of her problems.

“I would like that,” he said, glad for her recoil.

She smiled warmly, holding her arms out and letting him press himself against her. She ground her hips against his as she was held against the door, their breathing growing desperate. Hawke let out a throaty moan, feet inching apart just slightly, feeling Fenris’s thigh parting hers. His one hand was on her breast, then moved lower, starting to hitch up her pencil skirt. Withdrawing his leg, his palm moved in to feel her up. She let out a sound of surprise at his sudden touch and he pulled away once he did.

“Are you not wearing underwear?” he questioned, sounding absolutely baffled underneath the huskiness.

Hawke didn’t respond, just laughed as she opened her clutch again, withdrawing her key. “I go commando a lot more often then you’d think.”

She let him absorb that information as she unlocked the door, letting them both into the house, moving up to her bedroom for the remainder of the night.

\--

“Remind me to never try to ever become a celebrity,” Hawke grumbled while she sipped the seven dollar latte steaming in front of her, ignoring the tingle on her tongue from its heat.

“Drunk punchy diva,” Isabela snickered as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Oh, don’t beat yourself up over it, Hawke,” Merrill said reassuringly. Sitting by the window of the café, her face was flushed pink from the heat of her hot chocolate. Her short brown hair was ruffled as it always was, her pale pointed ears sticking out at the sides.

“No, she’ll just beat up someone else,” Isabela snickered. Too easy.

“Okay, that bitch threw a good punch,” Hawke admitted. She had woken up in Fenris’s arms that morning, turning over to face him the soft morning light. She watched as his heavy eyelids fluttered open, greens still dreamy with blissful sleep, a very romantic sight, until they bulged wide open with shock at the purple shiner around her left eye. She felt it when he lightly poked the skin on her cheek. Then he just laughed at her, and she didn’t kiss him good morning.

Her appearance had caught the attention of a certain few inside the hip little coffee shop. All around her there were glances directed at the darkness of her eye. She had left her house, not feeling up to spending any more time with Fenris and grabbed the quickest way out to Cabbagetown where Merrill lived. Isabela always said she went with Merrill to let Hawke have the place to herself once and a while. She knew the truth, seeing how much Merrill blushed around her. She was happy for them, but also wondered just how exclusive they were, or how exclusive they each thought they were. Hawke just hoped Isabela wasn't lying to her.

Merrill had her phone out, taking a picture of her hot chocolate. "So, what are we doing today?"

"Well," Isabela began, "I think Hawke's going to be treating that eye of hers." She looked at Merrill to continue, but was met with a blank stare.

"Oh! Of course." She pulled her purse into her lap and unzipped it. It was a massive bag, making her look absolutely tiny carrying it. She was elbow deep in it before taking out a large Ziploc bag filled with green herb, casually tossing it in the middle of the table.

"Jesus," Hawke breathed, scrambling to grab the bag, holding it close to her stomach under the table. "Wow, that's- huh, that's a lot of oregano you got there," she laughed nervously, eyes scanning the room. "How big do you think this dinner party is?"

"Relax, Hawke," Merrill giggled. "It's all in the cakes they make here!"

"Seriously?" she questioned, looking up to the glass display holding all the deserts the cafe had. She looked at the bag in her lap, eyes growing wide. "Shit, Merrill, I don't have any cash, how much do I owe you?"

"It's an ounce, so..." She shut one eye, calculating in her head. "Three twenty, because you're a friend."

"Can't argue with that. And, for now, I'll buy your hot chocolate." Hawke handed the bag to Isabela under the table, letting her slip it into her own bag. "Wait, I did not even know you dealt, why was I out asking Anders yesterday?"

Merrill shrugged. "You didn't ask?"

"You're the last person I'd expect," Isabela muttered, hands fumbling with the straps of her purse. Hawke felt her phone buzz in her pocket, took it out of her shorts pocket and sighed.

"Anders?" Isabela asked.

"Yep." She put her phone away, not wanting to answer it.

"Oh, did you two have a fight?" Merrill's brow creased into a sign of concern.

Hawke laughed sharply. "Oh no, he's all, 'hey I don't work late tonight.' For like, the first time in weeks."

Isabela nudged her with her elbow. "Just better make sure you kick Fenris out of the place before he shows up, right?" She was grinning slyly, completely joking, but Hawke didn't return the jest.

"That's actually something I need to do, not gonna lie." She rubbed her middle finger over her good eyelid, trying not to disturb her makeup. "They seem to be at each other's throats a lot more lately."

"Well," Isabela began, "they both really like you. And if I were to guess, they're probably both wanting to get more serious with you."

"Ew," Hawke said with a grimace. "Oh god, Anders asked me last week if I wanted to have like, proper dinner at his house one time. Like, the arrangement is, one of us goes over, we order pizza, drink beer, watch basketball, get high and have sloppy sex on the couch."

"Our couch?" Isabela's smile vanished from her face. Hawke just ignored her.

"But that time, it was like, he wanted us to have _stir fry_ , and then we'd drink wine and watch _DVDs_ , and he didn't say it but I just knew it that we were going to _make love_ on his freshly cleaned Egyptian cotton sheets. Disgusting, I know."

Merrill and Isabela exchanged glances, not giving her a response.

"How is that a bad thing, Hawke?" Merrill asked sheepishly.

She sighed. "It's not, I'm just- I don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment. I mean, there's a reason I don't live the kind of life my parents wanted me to? I've been to a lot of their business parties and stuff. My mother went through this phase with me, trying to find me a husband, basically. And I met a bunch of guys, all the sons of business associates or whatever. They were all terrible! That's why you guys are my friends."

Merrill's eyes filled with warmth at the sentiment, but Isabela laughed it off.

"Alright, but I don't recall you complaining about those parties with all the free champagne."

A grin split Hawke's face, and soon they were all laughing around the table. In truth, Hawke was just waiting for the next one to happen, so that she could invite all of her friends. Some of the men she went out with in that circle still pined for her, still texted her even. If they watched her and her crew getting blasted at one of the parties, and they would certainly stop.

"You need to settle your Anders and Fenris problem with a threesome, I think it's the only way," Isabela said finally.

Hawke scoffed. “As much as I agree, they hate each other. And they both don't want to just bang me, because they have that already, they want to _be_ with me, exclusively."

The others just shrugged, and Hawke felt defeated. She took her phone out again, reading Anders’ message in full.

“Well, maybe you could give his plan a try, Hawke?” Merrill asked. “Maybe you’d like it. He does have a nice place.”

—

Already she was regretting Merrill’s advice, but there she was, swirling red wine around in a merlot glass, listening to the crackling sounds of Anders cooking stir fry. It didn’t take any convincing to get him to revert to this plan, and she was annoyed by how willing he was to do their usual thing. But his face had lit up the instant she suggested it, so here she was. She knew he thought of this as a real date now, not just hanging out as friends who happened to fuck. He was even dressed nicely - in his own home! Hawke felt underdressed in her torn jeans and cropped T-shirt, but it was pretty routine of her, so she doubted he noticed.

She had already texted Isabela bemoaning how much of a mistake she was making, but it was no use now. She was tempted to take out her phone again, but suddenly Anders had entered the room with two plates of his dish.

“Looks good!” Hawke complimented, and she wasn’t lying. Besides the restaurant yesterday, it had been all too long since she had had any real food.

“I certainly hope it is,” Anders chuckled, sitting at the dining table just across from her. “I had to improvise a lot.”

They clinked their glasses together, and for the first few minutes, they ate in silence. At least the food he had made was extremely tasty. About halfway through their meal, they spoke again.

“So,” Anders began, “I was surprised to know you wanted to do this.”

Hawke smiled, sucking up a noodle before replying. “Well, doing the same thing over and over gets a bit old, doesn’t it?”

He smiled warmly. “And can I say, even with that black eye which I will not question, you look beautiful tonight.”

A blush came to her face, fingers gently caressing the bruise. “Don’t go to those Yonge and Eglinton clubs. Girls are nasty there.”

He raised his eyebrows, unable to come up with a reply, but they both just laughed. Once they finished they had curled up on the couch, and to Hawke’s relief after seeing a long shelf of DVDs, just watched the basketball game. His arm was around her, her face rested on his chest. Before they could witness the Raptors’ devastating loss on screen, Hawke kissed him. It went on longer, and soon she had straddled his lap, their kisses growing more intense before he moved them out of the living room.

His sheets, of course, smelled of fabric softener. Freshly washed and ridiculously soft as she laid on her back, feeling Anders peeling off her jeans. Her head sank into the pillows, back arching as his head was between her legs. She opened her eyes to look out the window, getting an amazing view of the city from such a high floor. Her eyes flicked around the room, seeing the decorating, the furniture, all so modern and whoever had done this had some real taste (and it just couldn’t be Anders. Or could it?)

She moaned when she felt his fingers inside her. Her hands gripped a handful of those sheets before they moved to run through his now loose blond hair. It too, was soft, just as she suspected. She didn’t know why, but she felt strange in this room. It was so polished, so clean, so damn _soft_. There wasn’t a reason for it, but soon she was completely distracted from Anders’ movements below, and she began to make sounds of protest.

“Hey, no, stop,” she said gently, and his head popped up.

“Something wrong?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

“No, just…” She let her arms flop down on the bed.

“Are you just not into it?”

“It’s not that…” Hawke sat up on the bed, and he followed, their torsos almost touching. Hawke reached for her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Anders watched her, eyes washing over her collar bone and he tilted his head to the side.

“Did whoever gave you the back eye also hit you in the chest?”

Hawke looked down at her breasts, seeing a couple brownish bruises. “Shit,” she muttered, and Anders’ smile faded. Fenris never left them on her neck, due to her short hair, he was so courteous that way. But of course they were on her tits.

“Wait, those are fresh enough to be from last night but-“ Anders gave her an irritated look, backing up from her. “Really?”

“What, do you seriously have a problem?” she was acting shocked at his response, but she saw it coming a mile away. “Anders, you know how it is between us.”

“I just-“ Anders had gotten off the bed now, pacing around the room. “I don’t understand, Hawke. What exactly do you want, here?”

Hawke pulled her knees up to her chest, surprised by his certain outburst. “You know what I want.”

“No, I mean, do you really want to be doing this forever? I thought that you wanting to have this more fancy sort of arrangement tonight meant you wanted something a little more.” He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I give up, I really do. I’m fine if you want to keep doing this weird fuck buddy thing, but if I’m just going to be one dalliance in the middle of god knows how many others, maybe we need a little space from each other.”

“Sorry, _god knows_ how many?” Hawke glared at him, and he flinched.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You and Fenris, that’s it,” she asserted. “And you know, I’ve barely even seen him before last night.”

Anders’ face relaxed, and so did Hawke’s grip on her knees. She extended her legs a bit more, nudging him with her toes. He looked at her with his sad brown eyes that usually made her melt.

“And, you know, if I meet someone else who I get really close to, we can’t keep doing this,” he continued, hand on her ankle.

“I know,” Hawke murmured. “I’m just not sure. You need to give me time to figure this out.” Anders leaned over to kiss her on the lips. “Right now, I know what I want.”

He sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “You got me. Alright.”

She smiled as they kissed letting him on top of her, sinking into the soft mattress once again. Her feelings of guilt quickly began to wash away, but his words would stay with her for a while.

—

“This is all becoming a disaster.”

Hawke was lying across the couch, vaporizer resting on her stomach. Her legs were across Isabela’s lap, the contents of the pipe long gone, and still lingering as a haze in the room. Arm reaching out for the bag of chips on the floor, she lifted her head to take a few into her mouth, chewing slowly.

“You shouldn’t eat lying down,” Isabela said lazily.

She mumbled nonsense in response, putting the bag back down.

“What’s becoming a disaster?”

“This whole thing with Anders and Fenris.” She put her hands on her face, feeling her eye still somewhat tender from a few days ago. “Neither of them want to talk to me. Both of them really want to be in a real relationship with me, it’s stupid.”

Isabela tilted her head back, letting her hair cascade down the back of the couch. “Well, why don’t you pick one?”

“I don’t want to! I want them both. But that won’t work.” She sighed, sitting up with great effort. “Easy for you to say with Merrill.”

“What?”

“You and Merrill.”

Isabela lifted her head up, frowning at her. “We’re not together, if that’s what you mean. Like, not at all.”

Hawke just stared at her, trying to be sure if she heard her right. “What about the other night when you went home with her?”

She laughed, more high pitched than normal. “We’re not even sleeping together.”

Hawke combed her fingers through her hair, feeling it slightly oily. She had been sure that Isabela had found her own people to sleep around with, much like herself. But hearing this now, she began to question it all. “So you have nobody?”

“No more than you.”

Hesitating, Hawke picked up the vaporizer that had rolled into her lap and placed it on the table. Looking back at Isabela, she raised one eyebrow, letting a smile grow across her face. A hand was on her leg as Isabela leaned in to kiss her. Hawke pulled her in, their mouths moving together lazily. They pulled away just before giggling.

“We never sleep together anymore,” Isabela complained throatily.

“There was a miscommunication,” Hawke sighed, smiling, and kissed her again. It grew more intense quickly, Hawke positioning herself between the other woman’s legs. Isabela pulled away all too suddenly.

“Wait, you said in that cafe that you and Anders have banged on this couch.”

Hawke bit her lip innocently, but then dropped it, twitching her head up. They got off the couch, running up the stairs to Isabela’s room. Isabela in all her refusal to wear pants was the first to lose her underwear, falling down to the bed with Hawke diving between her legs. She squealed as Hawke kissed her thighs, moving to her centre.

Hawke had forgotten how great her nights with Isabela used to be, going longer than she had ever imagined. Minds still addled with drugs, they moved slowly together, eventually folding into one another’s arms when they grew tired. Just about to drift off, Hawke felt a tiny kiss on her shoulder, and that small gesture made her heart flutter inside her. It meant more to her than anything else had in the past year. Perhaps she never had to see those other two ever again. Maybe her solution was right here.


End file.
